Page 59 of North

“Did you learn Russian in school?”

His mouth closed, and for a second, darkness flitted through his eyes, then a half-cocked, almost wry grin curved his face. “Da.” He laughed. “Actually, I took private lessons. I had a good teacher.” His mouth made a grim line then, and he sighed.

Interesting.

She said nothing, and they passed through the outskirts of Wenatchee and turned north.

She tried her phone again. No bars. “This is so weird. It’s as if it’s not getting a signal.”

“That’s what we get for buying cheap burner phones,” he said.

“Yeah. I guess so.” She dropped the phone into her backpack.

“So, once you get to your friend’s house, what will you do? Off to that camp?”

Right. “I don’t know. Maybe. Or…” She leaned back in the seat, put her foot on the dash. Looked out the window.

Ham’s voice found her, reverberated through her. North is looking for you.

“I think I probably need to have a conversation with someone first.”

James nodded. “The guy your friend mentioned?”

“North. His real name is Nolan, but North was his SEAL name, so it stuck. And frankly, it fits, if you think of north as a sort of moral heading. He’s very…black and white.”

“A lot of operators are. They’re trained not to ask questions.”

“Well, I mean…he’s a good man. Patient. And he’d do anything for someone he was charged to protect.”

“Or someone he loved?” James glanced at her, gave her a smile.

She frowned. Had she mentioned they were in a relationship? Maybe. But, “Yes. For sure.”

“What’s with the sigh?”

Oh. “I just…I’m more of a gray-area girl. I want peace, even if it costs something. And I see both sides, so…we’re sort of at an impasse.”

“Could be he has good reasons for what he does,” James said, his eyes on the road. “Maybe there is more to the story than you think.”

She frowned at him again. “North grew up as a pastor’s kid. He’s very moral, very right, and isn’t afraid to say it when he needs to. When we first met, I thought he was quiet and shy. He is quiet…but more in a contemplative way. And he’s very much not shy. At least, not when it matters.”

James shot her a look.

“A few years ago, I was taken captive in Nigeria by the Boko Haram. He and a few of his team came in and rescued us. I was so relieved to see him, it took me a second to think about what he’d had to do to save me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Kill people.”

“The people who took you.”

“Yes.”

“Who were going to…what, rape you? Kill you?”

She swallowed. Shrugged, with a nod.

“Feels like there’s not a gray area there.”